All but Blood
by Yo Vortekz
Summary: Six years had done much to the person I had once been, a lot of it for the better. And then everything took a turn for the worst when my teacher tried eating me for lunch. Even though there's a pandemic on my hands and my heart's in confusion, I'll continue to stride forward like I always have. I'll protect her no matter the cost, even if it means becoming the monster I once was.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **Naruto and Highschool of the Dead belong to their respective creators and not my talent-less ass.

Romance/Adventure/Supernatural/Horror.

Hopefully you enjoy, because I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

A dark-haired man makes his way down a cemented corridor that only serves to intensify the already scorching heat, each and every stride oozing discipline and elegance. His arm reaches out and slender fingers curl around a cool steel bar.

The hinges squeal as the door opens, a curtain of dark purple hair sashaying behind him as it shuts with a slam, courtesy of an air-pressured mechanism.

He takes in the room with calm eyes; it's rectangular in shape, the ceiling high yet not overly so, and comprised of the same cobblestone materials as the corridor. The room is bare, and it looks out into an opposing room separated only by a barrier of transparent glass. It's dark at the moment, blanketed in an inky black shadow.

He turns and takes notice of another occupant; a man in his rough fifties looks out into the darkened room, greying blonde hair combed back from a pinched, pale face, a white coat draped over his shoulders.

"He's been in there for 28 hours now," the elder man speaks without turning, "no water, no food, not even a blink of sleep. Hasn't even moved an inch; just sits there and stares right back at you as if he knows you're there. It's creepy, had to turn the lights off so I didn't have to look at him."

The dark-haired man says nothing, but takes a few strides closer to the coated man. "I heard what happened and got here as fast as I could," he finally speaks, a voice as smooth as velvet breaking the silence, "is it really true; successful human experimentation?"

"You bet it is, kiddo'," the aging man says, retrieving a touch tablet from his coat, "fascinating, isn't it? They all had different strains, but the roots of the virus are exactly the same; it enters the hosts' body and then adapts and mutates and becomes a new, unique cell. However, the effects it grants its host are all the same."

The elder man exchanges the tablet for a remote and presses the button, golden brilliance banishing the shadows and illuminating the opposing room as he turns back to the younger male.

"The ability to manipulate their own blood."

The lights reveal a single chair; plastic and white with a single boy sitting on top of it. He stares back at the younger man with blue eyes that sat just below a mop of unruly blonde hair and just above two sets of three whisker-like scars, his gaze pinioning. Hazel and sapphire clash in an intense stare-off, neither gaining the edge.

"Creepy little thing, isn't he?" the man with the remote questions, "Doesn't say anything, just stares. Sometimes he grins, too, but that's a whole new level of creepy in itself."

"What have they decided to do with him?"

"Well, the others were kidnapped children and had families to go back to. Unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way you look at it, this one doesn't have anything like that. We've searched high and low for anything but come up short every time. Apparently there's talk of an execution in Osaka."

"They're going to execute a child?" the hazel-eyed man asks with a visage of horror, "Better yet, he wasn't the only one. Why are they singling this one out?"

"Easy, easy," the aged man soothes, "as I said, we haven't found any living or deceased relatives for this one, so he's technically property of the country. And the other children, well, let's just say that their families are in high places and leave it at that. But that's not all—he's violent, and I mean _really_ violent. The report from the Recovery Team says that he bifurcated four of their members before succumbing to three tranq darts—three god damn tranquilizer darts to take down an eleven year old."

"Bifurcated? With what?"

"A sword—"

"You truly expect me to believe a child is capable of bifurcating a fully grown adult with a sword? Do you have any idea of the physical strength and skill that takes? Because I do; and it's practically impossible for someone of his age."

"If you'd let me finish," the greying blonde hisses, "thank you. By practical means, yes, you're completely right. He created a sword of his own _blood_—"

"If anything, that only further proves to invalidate your case; sharpened liquid? Don't be absurd."

"You're cutting me off _again._ As I was saying, he's able to construct a solid object comprised entirely of his own blood. And yes, even then it'd prove nigh-impossible to slice through anything, let alone a human body. And what enables that is the properties of his blood—"

"I don't need any of your verbose dialogue; just get to the point."

"Corrosive, his blood is highly corrosive. We tried to extract some and one of our medics almost lost a hand because of it. It destroyed the damn needle from the inside out. How it doesn't disintegrate himself is a mystery in itself, but until we can find some way to extract it then it'll remain a moot point."

"So that's it, then," realisation dawns on the long-haired man, "He's going to be put to execution out of fear of the unknown? And the other children; did they sit and roll over like little puppies when a task force invaded their sanctuary with all guns blazing? From what I've been told, they were used as contract killers and locked up in their rooms when they weren't training or doing a job. Is it really so hard to believe that a child who's used to living that kind of life would lash out in fear when placed in that kind of situation?"

Silence fills the rectangular room until the purple-haired man sighs, "I'll take him in."

The elderly man's head snaps up instantly, "What?"

"I said I'll take him in. Simply thinking about a child being executed for something like this leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"You'd be able to cope with being under the same roof as this… this _thing?"_

"That's for me to worry about. Besides, you sounded so enamoured by him not even a minute ago."

"There's a big difference between enamouring and being fascinated by a product of science, Busujima-san."

"I suppose. Have a pleasant day, Amachi-san." The younger man says, turning on his heel in the same moment that the words leave his lips.

"Wait, wait! You can't just walk out of here with him so easily, you have to—"

"I'll get it sorted in a moment," the purplette says as he grips the steel bar of the door.

"Don't you even want to know his name?!"

"Oh, right. What is it?"

The man clad in a lab coat retrieves the tablet again and swipes his hand across the screen.

"Uzumaki—Naruto Uzumaki."

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**A/N: **Warning: This is my first crack at writing a proper fic. You're probably a little confused and that's good, because I didn't want to go spoiling everything in the prologue, but I felt that this just had to be the prologue. It was originally going to be put together with the first chapter as a flashback type thing, but I decided against it. I didn't want to show you guys a glimpse of the past and then throw you straight into the present because that'd probably be confusing as hell.

Regarding the tense/POV I wrote this in; I only do this with flashbacks-the whole "He walks" thing. For content in the present, I write in first person POV which is probably a little bit of a mosquito bite in terms of this site being heavily dominated by third person POV and its variants. Before you all ask; yep, Naruto has been born into the HOTDverse. There's no chakra and jutsu and stuff.

I'm not the type of guy who info-dumps about Naruto and who his friends are and what his past's like etc; I'll reveal it throughout the story to create some form of secrecy and tension. But, as I've previously said, I felt it was necessary for some sort of a flashback as the prologue because it seemed to be confusing just chucking you straight into the present.

This will not be a harem fic. Why, you ask? I simply don't like them. And in these archives, they're in an abundance. This fic will be a monogamous pairing with actual development and love, not just Naruto screwing the brains out of HOTD girls. Who's he going to be paired with? Heh, not telling. It should be easily figured out by the first few chapters anyway. Also, I like to plan my stories out, and I already have 4 chapters written up with 7 planned. Thus, I won't be abandoning this or starting a new one, so rest assured.

I'll be at least once a week, maybe once every two days, it depends how I feel. I want to keep a decent buffer in case I get hit with writers block or something.

Does the reason for Busujima taking in Naruto sound unrealistic? Does the dialogue feel forced and cheesy? Is my grammar shitty? And please know that Naruto isn't going to be OOC like I've made it seem. Regarding chapter length: this is a prologue, so of course it's going to be small. Sorry for the big-ass A/N, I just had a lot to say.

Criticise me, give me advice, praise me, do anything you want-besides flaming-but most of all, tell me what you think by leaving a **review!**


	2. A Change of Pace

**Disclaimer: **Naruto and Highschool of the Dead belong to their respective creators and not my talent-less ass.

Romance/Adventure/Supernatural/Horror.

Hopefully you enjoy, because I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**A Change of Pace**

* * *

It was screaming and shouting and sobbing that roused me from my sleep, the world coming to me in a kaleidoscopic blur as I stretched my arms to the roof, threw my head back and yawned to the heavens. Absently bringing a hand to my face, I rubbed the drowsiness from my eyes and stood up.

"What the hell's with all of the yellin' and shit, ya know!" I yelled, but no-one answered—if anything, the ongoing ruckus began to intensify.

Turning, I scoped out the room for anyone or anything that might have had something to do with the anarchy, but all I received was a "get the fuck out of my way!" followed by a customary punch to the face. Stars exploded before my vision, my cheekbone stinging from the unexpected blow and I stumbled back onto my desk. Okay, now I'm pissed.

Glancing up just in time, I caught an eyeful of a fellow classmate; light brown hair that sat on top of an angular sort of face with high cheek bones and an eyebrow piercing. He stared at me with something akin to horror, and I only had to look down to understand why.

It seemed that the punch had in fact been a homerun swing of a wooden baseball bat. I looked back up at his face, back to the bat, and then back to his face again. Something must have snapped him out of his panic; because he was charging with the bat cocked back a second time before I even had the chance to say a word.

Even in my somewhat bewildered state, I was faster. Weaving to the side, I chambered a kick at his knee, the fragile joint snapping backwards with a grotesque _crunch. _Classmate or not, nobody hit me across the noggin and then came back for seconds—though it was more so the former rather than the latter; no-one hit me _period. _

He came falling forwards the moment gravity caught up with him and the limb gave way, screaming and cursing and trying to shift his position to straighten out the leg that he was currently sitting on in a pseudo-reverse seiza. I inwardly grimaced, a trickle of regret pooling in my gut; I hadn't meant to completely snap the joint, but with it being his lead leg and the fact that I didn't have a particularly weak kick… the results weren't pretty to say the least.

I moved to hoist him up with an apologetic—albeit forced—smile and a sheepish laugh, saying, "Oops, well, let's get ya to the nurses office, yeah?"

He batted my hands away as if they were poison and tossed me a filthy glare laced with panic, "Y-Y-You broke my knee! _You broke my fucking kneeee!"_

"Well look on the bright side; ya might get a nurse with big boobs, right?" I said in an attempt to placate the distressed aggressor, but he was anything but placated. He brought both hands to his cheeks and pulled down so hard that I thought they were going to tear off. Something was off, so I delved, "What's wrong? A broken knee ain't that bad."

The mumble was too low for me to catch, and I asked him to repeat what he said, to which he looked up at me with haunted brown pupils that were shrinking into pinpricks on an ocean of white and whispered, "We'll die—I'll die, they'll kill us all. I'm doomed, you're doomed—we're all fucking doomed!"

Eyeing him warily with a raised eyebrow, I said, "Riiiiight. Well, if you're not gonna move then I'm goin' to get a teacher. I'm not gettin' in trouble for kicking some idiot who thought it'd be a good idea to slog me over the head."

He didn't even acknowledge my presence, simply opting for crying into his palms whilst sitting on his mutilated limb. Stuff him, then. I'd still go and get the teacher though; detention was the last thing on my list of _do's._

Upon exiting the classroom, I found the corridors to be eerily empty as opposed to the ear-rupturing chaos that was ensuing only moments before. Maybe the perps had been dealt with by the Student Council? Maybe there'd been a fight or something. Damn if it was, because I'd missed it all.

A scream ricocheted off of the marble walls from somewhere outside if the echoes were any indication. I hiked the window up on its hinges and stuck my head out. Nothing on either sides, but the screams continued to ensue. I caught a blur in the corner of my eye and managed to catch a glimpse of a few students being surrounded by a group of limping peers. There really was a fight on school grounds!

I was rounding the corner and off towards the stairwell before I knew it, hoping to get at least a glimpse up-close before it was broken up. My sprint came to a halt when I caught sight of someone leaned up against the wall. I stared intensely; that brown hair with a reddish tint, that full figure, those breasts! It was, without a doubt, Hayashi-sensei.

But then I was stuck at a horrible intersection; call her over to the classroom and get help for the guy whose knee I'd busted up, or take a shortcut—leap off of the stairwell—and catch the end of the fight. In the end it was the good guy in me—buried somewhere deep within he may be—that prevailed.

Striding forward, I called for Hayashi-sensei, "Oiiiii, Sensei! Some idiot hit me across the head with a bat so I kinda' accidentally broke his knee and now he won't get up. He's cryin' and stuff, so you might wanna get Teshima-sensei to move him."

It must have been Ignore Naruto Day because she made no acknowledgment of my presence, instead standing stock still with a slump and staring into the wall as if she was on a drug-induced trance. Was she mad at me for getting into another fight and silently counting to ten? Must have been, because that's what she told me to do instead of lashing out.

"I didn't throw the first punch if it makes you feel any better." I consoled. Still, she made no effort to move; probably on her rags or something.

I was already a few strides away when I heard the clicking of her heels on the marble flooring. Had the great Hayashi-_sama _finally decided to grace me with her cooperation? She had, it seemed, after a few steps in silence. Two could play at the ignoring game.

It was when I rounded the corner that I caught a whiff of it; that tangy, repugnant and somewhat metallic scent that I couldn't rid from my head no matter how much I tried. The clicking of Hayashi-sensei's heels on the marble were beginning to grow in repetition. At first it was one _click _of heel and marble a second, but was now a varying tempo as if she was tripping and stumbling over her own feet.

Years of intensive training—no matter how hard I tried to bury them—was the only thing that saved my life; I spun on my heel and Hayashi-sensei was in front of me, blood and skin and flesh smeared over the left side of her face and a gaping hole with faint teeth impressions for a throat. Her pupils were rolled back somewhere in their sockets and her jaw snapped open wide, the flesh of her cheeks splitting to accommodate her gaping maw.

Time seemed to slow as she reached, old lessons kicking into play. Eyeing the area from the corner of my vision confirmed that there was nothing and no-one in sight; everything was quiet except the sensei-gone-zombie threatening to eat my throat out, which also meant there was nothing to defend myself with except my own body.

And then everything snapped back into reality like the audio of a vintage movie projector trying to catch up with the visual. It was muscle memory that hooked my hand around back of Hayashi-sensei's neck, and impulse that had me sweeping her legs from under her with a kick. Using her momentum, I pivoted, and the hand that sat on the back of her neck took up residence on the side of her face as I slammed it into the wall with as much strength as I could muster.

Her head exploded with bits of hair and blood and brain gunk, the left side of her skull cracking open like an egg. She slid down white-turned-red wall with the only noise being her heels against the floor.

I took a step back, heart thumping in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins and took stock of myself. I had not even a mobile phone on my being—confiscated due to usage during class time. A quick raid through my pockets produced only a handful of popping rocks; some type of low-level gunpowder and rocks wrapped inside a paper-like material of some kind that made little explosions on moderately-rough impact.

I inspected it in my hands and—

Red, blood—_life-blood. _

It sat over my hand in a thick coat that reached my wrist before tapering off into splotches. Unbidden, memories flashed before my eyes like a stop motion film. Blood covering my arms, blood moving, shaping, taking form into a long blade that held no equal as it descended upon supple flesh—

My hand was under the water fountain in the next second and I scrubbed until the only thing red was the skin due to friction. I cupped a handful of water and rubbed it over my face to cool down. Working myself up over past experiences was useless; it was the past for a reason.

_Instead of dwelling in an ugly past, look forward to a beautiful future, _I mentally recited _his_ words.

I'd become a better person, nothing like the monster I once had been. I learned what it meant to have a friend, I didn't kill out of anger, and I didn't even use _that_—hadn't used it for years, which was also painfully obvious.

Taking deep breaths, I leaned back against the bubbler and took a glance at the thing that had once been Hayashi-sensei—what on earth _was _that? Nothing looked out of place when she was standing against the wall, probably more or less due to the fact that she only had her back presented to me and the gruesome wounds were located along the frontal region.

I came to the conclusion that this was the reason of reaction from the guy that had socked me one in the face with a bat. Speaking of which, was he okay now? I took another look around the immediate corridor, but it was still empty with only screams and grunts filling the air. I was aware now, so the chances of being taken by surprise were little-to-none, despite the fact that I was horribly out of practice.

Sure, I'd had my fair share of scuffles around the place, but not an actual _fight—_the type that you knew if you messed up in, you were going to lose a limb or, better yet, your life. With that in mind, I made my way back over to the classroom to check on the guy I'd practically doomed to his death.

The door was still slid open when I approached it with silent steps, my breathing controlled and steady even though I knew I was walking into a possible death trap. A groan caught my attention three paces from the room, and I turned my head with utmost silence, body freezing in place.

One of those things—one of _them _limped out of the supply closet adjacent to the room, uniform torn and blood trailing crimson lines from its mouth to its fingertips from where it dropped to the floor like a leaking tap.

My heart sped up as it moved closer, a pump of even more adrenaline flowing through my being. My vision blurred from the abrupt increase, fists involuntarily clenching and unclenching, but I kept myself from digging a nail into my palm. If even a drop of my blood escaped my body, I knew that all of the work on becoming a better person—years of it—would all be gone to waste.

But it limped closer and closer as if to push me into temptation, the vile stench of rotting flesh and bodily fluids making its way to my nostrils, and I had to fight down the urge to gag. The closer it moved, the closer the thumb of my nail strayed above my palm. C'mon, just move away from me, I thought, neither of us want this.

The pale and shrunken pupils swivelled over a sea of white, not locking onto anything specific. It was a meter away from me now, and I knew I had to do _something. _Right fist clenched—not to the point where nails were breaking the skin, just enough to make a full fist. In this particular situation I had a full pivot, so I'd be able to put all of my body weight into the punch.

And then a resonance of metal meeting metal whined through the area and it slumped to a stop and leant back with its arms dangling at its sides. Then it moved—ignoring me completely and turning into the opposite direction in something that resembled a jogging limp.

When it was around the corner and out of sight, I brought a hand up to wipe away the beads of sweat I never knew had been there. That was way too close for comfort, and I'd almost lost myself. Nevertheless, it completely ignored my presence even though it'd been not even a meter from me. So they weren't able to use their eyes, then—that made sense. And it was close enough, so that also wiped out the use of smell. It reacted to the loud sound, so… hearing and touch were the only things left on the list.

Right, so all I had to do was not be touched and heard, which was relatively simple when thinking about. Glancing inside of the classroom confirmed that the guy from before was gone; some sneaky bastard had nicked the baseball bat to boot. Damn it, if only I'd taken it when I'd broke his knee.

Taking a breath, I tossed a haphazard plan together; first I'd try and find Sa—

A scream that was all too close tore through the air.

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**A/N: **Yo, second chapter is up. One thing I want to address is my word count for chapters; I don't aim for a lot of words, I just write what's necessary and if that happens to be a big amount of words or a small amount of words, then that's just how it goes. I'm not going to jam a shit-load of stuff into a chapter if it doesn't _need _to be.

And a big thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue, your support is welcomed with open arms. Truth be told, I've never actually heard of Deadman Wonderland before, but thank you to **Mzr90** for mentioning it to me. It's given me a new rush of ideas for this story. Rest assured that the abilities in **All but Blood** are _not_ the Branch of Sin. As I said, I've only heard of Deadman Wonderland for the first time today.

So, what do you think? I tried to portray Naruto as a sort of troublemaker who starts fights and gets up to mischief with a little bit of over-excessive force; given the knee breaking, even though it wasn't entirely intentional. I'm happy with the short fight scene and the way Naruto dealt with killing due to him being a different person; how do you feel about that as well? Do you like that I made Naruto change over the years, or would you have preferred him to be the same violent type of guy?

Most of the person that Naruto was is linked to his abilities, so I have him refusing to use them due to memories and the fact that he'd-oops, don't want to spoil it! Oh, yeah, also; this is _not _a harem fic. I personally don't like them and prefer a monogamous pairing. Rest assured, there's not going to be lemons and shit right off of the bat. I'm going to try my best with development of characters and stuff.

Criticise me, give me advice, praise me, do anything you want-besides flaming-but most of all, tell me what you think by leaving a **review!**


	3. Found ya!

**Disclaimer: **Naruto and Highschool of the Dead belong to their respective creators and not my talent-less ass.

Romance/Adventure/Supernatural/Horror.

Hopefully you enjoy, because I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**Found ya!**

* * *

My History class was sandwiched between the second and fourth levels of the Block B, and thus provided a hard time exiting for most students; I was not most students.

I gunned past room after room at a moderate speed; fast enough to be considered fast, and slow enough to react should anything jump out at me from hidden corners. Yells and groans and moans of pain became substantially harder to ignore on my approach to the exit. It seemed I'd hit the jackpot in actually attending History instead of pulling a hooky, because Block B was relatively uninhabited as opposed to the other 99% of the school grounds—a glance out of the window confirmed that.

I probably could have jumped out and survived, god knows I was able to years ago, but that was precisely the point; I wasn't sure how my body would handle that sort of strain nowadays. It wasn't like I was a heavy person, if anything I was the exact opposite, but being relatively fit didn't make me the Japanese Batman now, did it?

Plus, I probably would have attracted the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of _things, _so, for the moment, Block B was the safest place to be.

I couldn't help the grin that lined my lips when I caught site of the stairway; it was a sturdy, zigzag-type construct made of a dark alloy metal that made sure to let the entire world know as soon as you stepped foot on it. I leapt at it before I was out of the actual Block and my feet sought anchor on the far railing, thighs crouching and coiling like a spring.

A rattle shot through the metal as I sprung up using the momentum of my leap, my hands catching hold of the railing on the level above the one I jumped from and I pulled myself up... only to come face-to-face with one of _them._

There was no way it hadn't heard me. It was a female if the blood-soaked dress was anything to go by, and it yanked my left hand up to its maw with enhanced strength, jaw opening wide—and then I went on the offensive. Twisting my wrist within its palm, I gripped its forearm with the strength of a vice and then let go of the railing completely. Strong or not, it wasn't capable of holding up both our body weight.

It came tumbling over the barrier of steel in a cartwheel sort of way, legs flying up into the air and then she was coming down, and I was left with the horrible realisation that I was as well. My right hand latched up and caught hold of the flat platform and I hung on for dear life with sweaty fingers. It was still attached to my wrist and showing no signs of detaching.

The strain was beginning to take effect; a combination of slipping fingers and a _thing _hanging on from below whilst trying to have my hand for lunch. It gripped so tight that it felt like my bones were creaking, and I bit out a curse in a hoarse whisper, "Fuck!"

And then it was moving closer, pulling itself and using my wrist as leverage. This wasn't good, not at all. Panic struck my core as my ring finger slid from the stair set, only my index and middle keeping me from a messy fifty meter drop.

I could try and shake it off but that would risk losing my grip, I could try kicking it but that would risk having it bitten. Maybe I could let go and manage to untangle my hand from its fingers before grabbing the lower-level stair set in time? A glance down and I decided otherwise; if I was a second too slow or I didn't manage to pry it from my wrist, then my arm would more than likely be torn from the socket and then I was dead either way.

There was a warm rush of air on my knuckles, and I looked down just in time to see its head rearing back, jaw going wide. My thumb nail dug an angry red line across the palm of my hand before I even thought about it, droplets trailing down from my fingertips and into its open mouth. It let out a weird noise as its tongue disappeared in singes of acidic smoke, red droplets corroding everything as they made their way down its throat and into its organs.

Everything below the armpit of the arm gripping my wrist was detached with a waft of rotting flesh, the re-animated body being reduced to nothing before it even hit the ground. The blood continued to corrode the arm still attached to me, the limb turning to nothing as I felt my middle finger slip.

Shit, was I really going to—no, that kind of thought wouldn't get me into a better situation. Pectorals straining as I threw my left hand arm up and around vertical railing as my pointer finger finally lost its grip. I pulled with all of my might and found it a lot easier with a relatively-unstrained limb and extra baggage.

Pulling myself up and onto the fourth level of Block B without making any noises was an effort in and of itself. My chest stung, my arms throbbed, and my wrist was already blooming dark purple beneath the skin. A sense of accomplishment flooded me as my face and abdomen met the cool steel of the platform, legs following not a moment later as I used the to both steady and support myself.

Sucking in air, I was suddenly aware that I'd use _that—_panic began to rise in the pit of my stomach and I dared a glance at me palm to see… nothing? No mark, no blood, no nothing. Had I hallucinated? I peered over the edge and scoured the floor with intensity, but there was nothing to see; of course, even if it had been real there'd still be nothing like a corpse anyway.

The harder I thought about it, the more it became a reality than a hallucination. But that couldn't have happened, because I would have… I would have succumbed to the euphoria, to the monster scratching at its bindings from deep within. Was it all in my head, or was uncertainty the only thing keeping me sane?

A scream bounced off of the walls in front of me, and I was reminded of my reason for getting up here in the first place. I was making my way down the corridor after sucking in another few breaths of air, my eyes scanning the floors and walls for anything to make use of. It was one of the first and foremost rudimentary rules that I'd been taught: _always take advantage of your surroundings, anything from a spoon to a can of bug repellent can become a weapon with the right mindset._

Though there had to actually be _something_ around for that to apply. Everything had no doubt been taken by the students who were up here when the things attacked—I still needed to find information on that—and had taken the concrete stairs which were much more troublesome to manoeuvre on. There was bound to be something there to use with all of the pushing and shoving that was likely to have gone on.

That also meant there was likely to be an abundance of those things lurking around, so it was a moot point, really. I rounded another corner and came to be meters from one _them _walking at a wall, not at all aware of my presence. A spin and a shove and it was another splatter on the wall, courtesy of the same method I'd taken down Hayashi-sensei with.

Repetitions of air bursts reached my ears; they were faint, and I almost missed them, but at least now I had a general direction to head in. There was another scream when I rounded the corner, and I made visual contact with its emitter; a girl—roughly my age—shuffling backwards and away from one of _them. _

My pace slowed when I caught a flash of red in my vision, and I turned to a glass case hiked up on the wall, a transparent barrier of spider web cracks sitting in front of an axe, two words in bright red imprinted above it: **EMERGENCY ONLY.**

The first punch I threw barely budged it, and the second just as useful. I stole a glance back at the girl and had the unpleasant sight of her being surrounded by not one more, but three. I punched at it again in a barrage of left and rights, the protective cover caving in little by little. The girl screamed again, and my patience met its limits.

"Fucking break, you piece of shit!" I screamed, blood surging through my veins and into my fist. I barrelled through it this time, bruised and swollen fingers—but not bleeding—wrapping around smooth wood and pulling the axe from its confines.

But when I turned, it seemed to be too late; one of them was inches from her now, mouth open wide as she fiddled with her bag. No you fucking don't! I mentally yelled, axe leaving my grip and soaring through the air.

I was after it without a second thought, legs pumping like pistons against the marble flooring. It met the closest ones head in a spray of blood and gore, but the second one was already taking up its position. My fist was barrelling into its face in the next moment, my other hand retrieving the axe from the downed thing.

Spinning, I brought the emergency weapon around and into the face of the third, completely obliterating it from the nose to the top of its cranium. The second one had recovered in the time I'd taken, its hands reaching for me with vice-like fingers. Already way too close for comfort, I brought up the axe as its teeth sunk into the lacquered wood. My foot lashed out into its midsection, sending it backwards in a shuffle of uncoordinated steps.

Pivoting on the balms of my feet, I lunged with a shoulder barge and sent it through the window and tumbling to its death. My senses screamed and I complied, dropping into a crouch in the same instant that the remaining one grabbed at the air I had been vacating only milliseconds ago. Hand wrapping around its ankle, the momentum of its movement sent it tumbling out of the window to join the second.

Drowning in adrenaline, I stood up and took stock of the surroundings with wild eyes, breathing laboured, limbs aching, heart thumping one million miles an hour. Yet I continued to stand strong with a silent begging for more. It was only when I finally became aware of the vicious grin on my face heralded by the six pairs of eyes on me that I realised how much I was truly enjoying myself.

But the hunger for battle was pushed aside with herculean strength when I finally locked gazes with beautiful blue eyes that weren't so different from my own, and I spoke from behind a smirk:

"Found ya, Saeko-chan."

* * *

**A/N: **To be honest, I had a little bit of difficulty with this one. Took me almost six hours-working on it on and off, of course. I was fighting with the urge to have Naruto use his abilities in full and go all Uchiha Massacre on some zombie ass. However, I pushed that urge down and only had him use it on the sly. As you can already see, the only reason he doesn't want to use his abilities is because he's afraid he'll become battle-hungry and lose himself.

I was originally going to upload this after class, but I thought what the heck. This chapter is a pretty short one, but the next chapter is 4k+ in words. As I've said, I don't aim to make large chapters, I just write all that's necessary. I might not update for a day or two after this one, though. It depends on how much work I receive; I'm doing my Diploma in Graphic Design. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, even though it wasn't much. Honestly, it can be a bit... disheartening, I suppose. Reviews kinda' boost my motivation in a weird kind of way.

Also, to the guest who reviewed... uh, how would corrosive blood be granted upon whoever Naruto copulates with? O.o And to **el saunto guerror**; don't worry, I'm not planning on having Naruto fear his ability all throughout the series. I won't say anything more on the subject though, 'cuz I might spoil it :P

How did you guys think of the fight scenes; both between the group of _them _and the one by itself? I kept reading over it and getting frustrated because it feels like I'm using a lot of the same words over and over again. I'm also getting frustrated because I'm not sure if I'm keeping Naruto's strength-level in check or not. I'm trying to give it the effect that he's like a fish back in its water in terms of battle-progression, but I think I may be taking things a little too fast. Can you guys let me know what you think on the topic, because it's always good to see it from someone else's point of view.

Criticise me, give me advice, praise me, do anything you want-besides flaming-but most of all, tell me what you think by leaving a **review!**


	4. Let's go!

**Disclaimer: **Naruto and Highschool of the Dead belong to their respective creators and not my talent-less ass.

Romance/Adventure/Supernatural/Horror.

Hopefully you enjoy, because I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**Let's go!**

* * *

The teacher's staffroom in B Block wasn't all that different from the classrooms; dusty green chalkboards lined the walls, all of which were horribly smudged with faint trails of white, whilst work stations took up a lot of the space, lining up a majority of the room. It was, however, the books that dominated the area; hundreds—if not thousands—of paperbacks stacked the desks, tables and anywhere else they could be held, their spines bent and pages mangled.

Rows of Persian's descended from the window sills, the vinyl slats left half-opened so that the beams of light escaped their grasp and glowed upon the room in a brilliant luminescence.

After a small introduction, we'd decided to team up and take stock of our situation at a safer location—the teacher's common room, being the only thing we found that wasn't occupied by walking corpses. A few desks and chairs and other miscellaneous objects made for a somewhat sturdy barricade against the door.

The pain all over my body had thankfully placated into dull throb that was barely noticeable, and the bruise on my forearm was a faint handprint under the skin. My breathing was normal, and I'd found hydration in the form of a water cooler in the corner of the room to boot. Now that I was feeling somewhat levelled, I could take a proper look at the situation.

We were a group of six—seven counting myself, and our specialties varied.

Shizuka Marikawa, I noted, was the school nurse; tall for a Japanese woman with a buxom physique and a rack that was rivalled in size by only her medical knowledge. It was common sense that she was the most valuable member—resource, the dark part of my mind echoed—of the team, and her expertise would prove crucial in survival.

My eyes moved from the voluptuous nurse and onto their next target. Saya Takagi was, for all intents and purposes, easy on the eyes; a slender physique, large chest, and pink hair certainly supported that. It was her god damn attitude and a head shoved up her own ass that silently begged me to grab her by the pony tails and fling her out of the window, which only further helped to mask a razor intellect. Everyone in the school knew of the pink-haired genius. Again, she'd prove crucial in the group; brain over brawn, after all.

That being said, brain was practically nothing when deprived of brawn. I felt a flush creep up the back of my neck when I made eye contact with Saeko Busujima; she was tall but not overly so, her body slender yet shapely with a sizeable chest and soft, shiny lips that I wanted to k—nothing! Without a doubt, her strength lied in her physical capabilities; because that beautiful, feminine form belied a true master of the blade that was bested by few.

I'd learned firsthand that despite being of the female sex, her father hadn't neglected her training in any way, despite following the bushido. It suddenly dawned on me that I was still staring into her eyes and I quickly averted my gaze, glancing up a second later and, whilst rubbing the back of my neck, offered a small smile. A bloodthirsty, violent-tempered former assassin, ladies and gentlemen.

The long, orangy-brown hair of Rei Miyamoto was the first thing that filled my vision when I turned. I was a little familiar with her, having been in the same mathematics class a few years back. She, like the other women of the room, was a well-endowed female youth with a fair complexion. A mop handle sat within her grip, and where there was supposed to be an actual mop left only a twisted, barbed piece of metal; a make-shift spear. Oh, right, she did introduce herself as a member of the Sojutsu club.

The next person I laid eyes upon was Kohta Hirano; truth be told, I hadn't really interacted with the guy all that much before. I'd seen him around the place a few times but that was as far as it went. He had a keen aim if the trails of nailed zombies we'd encountered on our way to the common room were anything to go by. He wasn't as aesthetically pleasing as Saya Takagi, nor was he as valuable as Saeko, but I couldn't quite shake off the feeling that there was something lurking deeper beneath the facade of an overweight, long-haired, four-eyed teenager.

Takashi Komuro was the last person I assessed. He was, in a sum of words, average; a mess of spiky brown locks that were heralded by a pair of equally brown eyes, and a build that wasn't fit or unfit testified that statement. Just _average. _He hadn't shown any special sort of physical or mental capabilities on our way to the common room. Bluntly said, he sucked. His form was sloppy, and he used only arm strength to power up swings of a wooden baseball bat. I didn't like mulling things over in this point of view, but it was blatantly obvious that Takashi Komuro was the weakest link of the team.

That being said, we weren't a bad lot when I thought about it; a medic, a strategist, three fighters—one being blaringly sloppier than the other two—one marksman, and myself, which put the tally at four fighters. Maybe I had my expectations a little too high; I was used to being teamed with people of my own calibre—or at least somewhere near it, and expecting that kind of a team from somewhat ordinary people was silly.

The crackling static of the television roused me from my musing, and I looked up to see a news report from the Saitama prefecture. A gunshot filled the air, and the camera wobbled and then zoomed in on the stretchers in the background. I knew what was going to happen before it did; the presumed-deceased rose from their prone positions, teeth clicking and jaw gaping. The reporter screamed, the camera crashed to the ground, and then the channel flitted to a standby screen.

The channel flitted again, this time to a studio-type room. A new reporter read through a series of warnings and cautions before Saeko flicked the channel over again, this time showing the American White House. A helicopter left its roof, an update on some of the European countries came through the audio, and then the screen bled to static.

The meeting of fist and pinewood broke through the momentary shocked silence, and its puncher spoke, "That's all?" Takashi said, fist clenching, "Why aren't they saying more?"

"Because they're afraid of causing panic." Saya intervened.

"Even now?" Rei questioned.

"Because of what happened just now!" Saya said, a slender hand pushing her glasses higher upon the bridge of her nose, "Fear leads to chaos, chaos leads to anarchy. How would you expect a Government to maintain order, or, better yet, deal with the living dead in such a setting?"

She nailed the tail on the donkey; heck, she'd explained it better than I ever could have. Without the Government, law and order was thrown straight out of the window and the nature of human's would manifest in all of its disgusting glory. Theft, back-stabbing, murder; it'd be right at your doorstep. But whilst lost order was at your doorstep, there was moving, cannibalistic corpses smashing down the god damn door.

"But how could things turn like this so fast?" Hirano's voice brought me from my thought, "When I was surfing the web this morning, it was business as usual..."

Rei took a step back from the screen, her face portraying her shock as she spoke with a shaky voice, "I can't believe it took only a few hours for the world to come to this. Don't you all feel the same?" She took a few more steps back, her hands curling around the sleeve of Takashi's blazer, "Still, there must be some place that's safe, right? And soon, things will be back to normal."

No, she was wrong; so completely wrong. I was about to voice my thoughts, but it was Saya that cut me off, "Keep dreaming," She said with as much eloquence as I would have.

"Do you really have to say it like that?" Takashi's questioned, a sliver of anger in his voice.

Saya retorted with an equal amount of irritation, saying, "This is a pandemic, what _am_ I supposed to say?"

"A pandemic?" Shizuka chimed in.

"It's when an epidemic of infectious disease spreads. So, the same disease that's infected people here is spreading throughout the globe."

"Like the Influenza?" Takashi questioned.

"Nah, somethin' more like the 1918 Spanish Flu," I cut off Saya's chance to reply, "Half a billion people were infected, and fifty million died from it. Didn't you hear about that new type of Influenza that the Government was all up in arms about?"

"Isn't this more like the Black Death of the 14th century?" Shizuka asked, hands clasping together above her chest.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I replied, "I dunno', didn't really pay too much attention to History class. Only reason I know about the Spanish Flu is 'cuz I was forced to watch a documentary about it."

"I thought as much," Saya bit off with her usual bitchiness. Fuck you too, pinky. She turned to Shizuka and spoke, "A third of Europe's population was lost to that."

"How were those diseases stopped?" Takashi questioned.

"There are many theories, but... the reason many of those diseases are contained is because they kill so many that there just isn't enough hosts for them to infect." Shizuka answered with a look of contemplation.

"But," Kouta spoke, peeking a glimpse through the blinds, "In this case, the dead are moving around and attacking people."

"Then you're implying it has no reason to stop spreading?" Saeko voiced.

Shizuka propped a finger to the air, her breasts bouncing at the movement, "But it's hot outside! Maybe their flesh will start to decompose and they won't be left with any mobility."

It sounded like a somewhat hopeful theory, but it wasn't, "And how long would that take?" I asked.

The buxom blonde nurse counted from her fingers, her lips pursed in thought as she spoke, "Well, during summer it would take roughly 22 days for some of the body parts. But during winter, it can take months... Anyway, if he go to our homes—"

"How do we know they'll even start to decompose?" Saya cut Shizuka off with a voice as sharp as a blade.

"How do _you_ know?" Takashi asked.

"These things already defy our knowledge of science, right? So why bother relying on it any further? It could be hopeless."

The brown-haired bat-wielder made to protest, but I cut him off by hopping to my feet, "She's right. I thought I was a goner when one of them was right near me, but it just walked right by without even looking in my direction. I mean, it doesn't make any logical sense, so why rely on logical explanations then, ya know?"

Saeko voiced from beside me—when had she gotten there? "What's important is having a location to make use of after we check on our families. Should we act only in our own self-interest, we stand not a chance. It's best if we come together as a team."

Her words sent a sense of confidence through the small room, and I noticed the other occupants shaping up. Saeko Busujima... she really was one of a kind.

"We should help survivors as our abilities allows us to," she spoke, and then turned towards me with hopeful eyes, "Will you lend us your strength, Naruto?"

I grinned. There was no way I could turn her down, "Of course. Your dad would have my head if I let anythin' happen to ya."

The soft tinge of pink on her cheeks, followed by the small smile that lined her lips made my stomach feel weird. I turned to the barricade and spoke, "Let's go!"

* * *

The door slid open without as much as a squeak, the chairs and tables having been removed moments earlier. Kouta made the first move, two nails sailing through the air and into two of them. It was only when Takashi made use of the lacquered baseball bat that I remembered the fact that I still had no weapon; the handle of the emergency axe had split in two, leaving it unable to wield.

"Naruto," Saeko whispered from beside me, "watch both Takagi-san and Marikawa-san. Miyamoto-san, Komuro-kun and I will keep any of them from approaching."

Woah, woah, woah. Komuro-_kun? _For some reason, that didn't sit well with me. Nevertheless, I bobbed my head in a nod and took a glance backwards at the two in question, both Rei and Takashi flanking them from behind. We cautiously made our way down the small corridor, careful to keep away from the lockers lest we create noise. At least, pinky'd told them about the whole don't-make-noise-situation, right? I hoped so.

Upon approaching the exit of the small corridor that lead from the teacher's common room to the halls that would usually be a bustle of activity by now, Saeko held a hand up to halt our approach. She glanced back at us and made a small shooing motion with her hand. I quirked an eyebrow and instead of backing off, took a few silent footsteps forward and took a peek around the corner.

There was at least a dozen of them slumping against the walls, windows and some where even limping in and out of the classrooms. In a sum of words; there was a shit tonne. I turned to Saeko and held my hand out, fingers moving inward, a subtle beckon of her wooden sword. But she shook her head and made the same shooing motion with her hand. With my... _unique _skillset, taking down a horde of corpses that were devoid of nearly all senses was a walk in the park. But therein laid the problem; Saeko had no idea of my aforementioned skillset. To her, in terms of combat ability, I was simply more or less a higher than average practitioner of the blade. In retrospect, it was my own fault that she thought that. In our once-in-a-blue-moon spars, I'd never been serious or intending to incapacitate, nor was she.

Another beckon of the bokken was reciprocated by yet another wave of her hand. Stubborn woman. I moved back towards the others of the group; Takagi's eyebrows pursed in thought, Shizuka's hands clutching at her handbag, Takashi gripping the bat with white knuckles, Rei standing tall with her makeshift spear, and Kouta fiddling with his nail gun—

I saw the nail slip from the chamber in slow motion, the steel pin somersaulting through the air until it met the ground with a _clink_ of marble. Kouta's eyes opened wide with horror.

And then it was on, those _things _from the hallway moving to our position with groans and shuffles. Saeko was the first to make a move, the bokken within her hands dealing swift hits to the cranium and downing three of them in quick succession. Takashi, Rei and Kouta left my vision with a dash, their weapons cocked to strike. I glanced up at the four of them, and then back down at the blonde nurse and pink-haired genius.

"If I go and help them, you'll be able to hold some of them off if they come at you, yeah?" I questioned the non-combat members of our ragtag group.

Saya shook her head immediately, pink ponytails swaying as she glared, "In case it isn't obvious; _no! _What are we supposed to attack with anyway?"

And what the hell do you expect me to defend you with, I thought, and then voiced it immediately thereafter, receiving another irritated glare from the pinkette as she said, "You were fine before, right?! Just use your body!"

Just use your body, she says, I thought, why don't you use your own, then?! This girl was really starting to irritate me! I caught Saeko turning to me from the corner from my eyes, and she said, "We're fine handling these ones, Naruto! Just protect them down there, okay?"

Despite killing the already-killed, Saeko offered me a small smile. It wasn't that I thought she was wrong or making a stupid decision—I was sure to voice such a thing—I just couldn't stand taking orders from _anybody._ Ever since my youth, even before training and what-have-you, I simply hated being told what to do. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and at my own pace. But in these circumstances...

I offered only a begrudging nod to the purple-haired swordswoman, before crossing my arms over and moving back towards brains and nurse. Saya seemed somewhat satisfied that there was someone—more than likely _something_ in her eyes—protecting her life. Idiotic girl.

"Just lettin' you know," I turned to Saya Takagi, "If Saeko gets in trouble up there, I'm goin' to help her. I don't really care whether or not there's a thousand of those things down here. I didn't join this team to protect _you—"_

Abruptly, I shut my mouth with a _clack _of teeth. Saya and Shizuka stared at me with unreadable expressions; Saya's being the more intense. Whether or not my choice of words had been the best, they weren't exactly false. I would have teamed up with Saeko had she not formed the team either way. She was my friend, and I was going to protect her; to obliterate anything that proved a threat. If it wasn't for her father and herself, I had no idea what kind of a person I would be today.

Would I still be killing people for money? Would I still be gathering information for underground mob bosses and the like? I preferred the answer unknown, because I didn't want to think of myself being more of a monster than I could remember. Saya's shrill scream tore me out of my reverie, and I was moving before I knew it.

Three of _them _stalked up the hallway on staggering feet, arms swaying by their sides. The vanguard, a rather burly-looking senior was the first to move in for the meal, meaty arms closing the distance. I ducked underneath it and fired off a straight right at its solar plexus that made it stagger backwards before pouncing in with a left hook that met its cheek with a splatter of blood and flesh.

I made to move in for the finisher, but the second one—a female of average build and blood-soaked brown hair—was already moving in on my left side. I crouched down as it staggered over me and leapt upwards a millisecond later, my hand clenching around its throat with herculean strength. A strangled gasp left its throat before I rammed it back into the wall as hard as I could manage, blood splattering outward on the pale surface.

Releasing my grip I spun on my feet to face the next—cold, rotting arms closed around my shoulders and heaved me backwards into the wall. The third one of them was a larger version of the first, its physical features and strength proving superior. I tried to shrug the bear paws off, but to no effect. It reared its head back, mouth opening wide as my hand lashed up and gripped its jaw with as much strength as I could, adrenaline flooding my veins and pushing my physical abilities even higher.

It was left to a contest of strength now; which would prevail: the strength in my arm or its hunger for my flesh. My elbow joint began to shake as it continued to try and move forward, thick fingers gripping my shoulders with even more strength. I could _feel _the bruising forming, the hairline trails making their way across my collar bones.

Foot hooking around the back of its heel, I yanked inwards whilst I continued to push its jaw forward with my hand. The effect was immediate; _it _went sailing onto its back and, with its hands still locked around my shoulders, I fell forward with it. With the upper hand, my grimy palm came down from its face and around its throat.

The feeling of total dominance was a truly terrifying thing. I sat atop of it now in a position of total control and brought down the hammer of justice in all of its might. My fist met its face with deep, fleshy thuds, the cranium snapping backwards and into the marble floor each and every time my hand descended. It gurgled, spat, and flailed its limbs in an attempt to escape my hold.

"Die, die, _die!" _Shoulder rolling and hand rearing, I landed blow after blow without mercy. Red stained my vision, globs of lifeblood coating my face each and every time I punched it. Yes! This was it! Its grip began to waver, growing tighter before slacking; an eternal loop.

"Can't you see?!" I grinned in its bewildered and torn face, eyes wide, "You can't escape me—you can't escape _this! _Clench yer' teeth and take it like the _thing_ you are!"

It felt so good—so intoxicating. It didn't stand a chance, never stood a chance. And now it would pay the price; the ultimate price! Nothing could help it or pull it from its misery, to free it from its punishment. This thing had _dared _to challenge me, and for that, there was no mercy—

"Naruto!"

A soft hand on my shoulder pulled me from a sea of red and head first into an ocean of purple. My hand throbbed, my shoulders ached, my breathing was ragged. There was blood on my face; no, there was blood everywhere—I could feel its thickness and smell its tangy scent. Blonde strands of hair matted to the sweat and gore on my forehead, a disgusting feeling. My fist was reared half back when I turned to look at it, knuckles dyed a deep red.

"It's okay now, Naruto. We've... _eliminated _them. So have you. See?" A voice warmed me, a smooth hand touching my cheek a moment later. And then my head was being guided down, and I was forced upon the sight of the one that had attacked me. Its face was a horrible mess of cartilage, bone and all sorts of red, pink and flesh. It didn't take the analysis of a genius to know that it hadn't simply been beaten badly; almost the entirety of its face had been caved inwards.

"Are you okay?" Saeko's voice pulled me out of my reverie. I stood to my feet with only the slightest of wavers and swiped a hand over my face. I knew their reactions before even glancing up. The entirety of the group—except Saeko, who stood beside me—stared at me with equal parts shock, worry and fear. Even though I told myself that I didn't care of their opinion about me, I still couldn't stand it. I could see them casting judgement upon the person I was behind their beady little eyes, no matter how hard they tried to hide it.

"What the hell're you all lookin' at?" I spat before turning to Saeko and spoke in a softer, less hostile tone of voice, "I'm fine. What about you?"

She stared into my eyes for a moment before speaking, "I'm fine, but..." She lightly grasped the sleeve of my blazer, "are you sure you're okay?"

Was I okay? Had she not been witness to what I'd done to that thing? But even now, staring into the twin pools of sapphire that were her eyes, I was unable to find even a sliver of fear. Just... curiosity. Wonderment. She was curious about me, about how and why I'd dealt with _it. _Looking aside, I spotted the first one that'd bum-rushed me laying stock still with a deep imprint across its forehead. But that couldn't have been right; it'd only been seconds after I'd knocked it down that I was throwing down with the third. How long had I been caught in bloodlust?

Still, I'd kept a leash on my other _abilities._ But that only added even more confusion to the equation; I didn't use it, so why had I been thrown into a rampage. My temper was directly linked to that ability, and without using it, I should have remained in proper control of my mental state. I wiped away that train of thought as quickly as it'd came on. Thinking about that was going to do more harm than good. Instead, whilst covered in blood that wasn't my own, I offered Saeko a grin and a cocky, boisterous scoff:

"Hah! As I'd let one of these things hurt me!" Then I spoke to the rest of the group in a quieter voice, "Well, what're we waiting for? Don't we have people to save, zombies to kill?"

And then we were making our way off again with Kouta and Saya's bickering in the background; Kouta apologising profusely and Saya insulting him for his actions. I took notice of something when we made out way past the second one that had charged me. Rolling it over, I unclipped the long carry bag hiked around its shoulders. Saeko moved beside me and inspected the name tag before an expression of sorrow overcame her features.

"I know this girl," she said, "she was a first year and part of the Kendo club."

Ah, that explained it then. I muttered a quick apology to Saeko, but she waved it off. If this girl was a part of the Kendo club, then that meant this bag was... I pulled the bokken from the cotton sleeve and gave it a few spins in the palm of my hand, nostalgia rising to the surface of my mind. I chose not to mull it over and instead grasped Saeko's hand and pulled her to her feet, confidence rising anew.

Even thought it wasn't the type of _sword _I was proficient in using, it didn't dull my experience in the least. Yes, even with a wooden blade, nothing would stand in my way—her way—no, _our _way.

Reluctantly, I let go of her hand and gave a grin in compensation, "Let's go."

* * *

**A/N: **As I said, this chapter is longer than the others; 4,781 exactly, and that's not counting the authors note. Again, I'd like to thank everyone for their support in the form of reviews.

I feel this chapter may be a little fast-paced, but now that Naruto's with people, that's to be expected. He's no longer fighting _them _by himself, so now there's the tension of losing himself whilst other's are around. To Cheesy puff cake... I see where you're coming from, but Naruto having a few more women doesn't exactly do anything. You said it yourself; humanity, at this point, is basically doomed. It's not like the fate of the world rests on Naruto's shoulders, and he's the only dude that can copulate.

That's why I don't like the good ole' "have to have a harem to revive humanity" cliché. And I'm not going to comment on when he'll use his abilities fully, that'd be a bit of a spoiler. Harlyquen; no, it wasn't Takashi. I'm only now realising that it sounds like him as well, lol. Thanks for pointing that out to me. Big thanks to el saunto guerror as well, reviews like yours get me motivated to pump out chapters.

I think I've relatively managed to keep the canon characters in character and not OOC, what do you guys think? And the pairing is blaringly obvious now, lol. One thing I want to address is the people who don't usually read first-person POV, as it probably sounds like Naruto fawning all over Saeko at every second of the chapter. However, you have to remember that this story is being told from Naruto's perspective; how he feels, how he perceives things, what he thinks etc.

From here on out, chapters are going to get longer and longer as there's a lot more to write about. I know I said on the last chapter that the next update would probably be in a few days, but I thought I'd upload this anyway. The next one, however, probably will be out in a few days. I've got assignments and stuff to do, y'know?

Also, what do you guys think about my grammar, spelling etcetera? I know I have most of the stuff down pat; seriously, I re-read my chapters like a hawk. But even then I manage to sometimes miss a small slip-up.

I'm writing this because my word count is at 11,999 and I can't stand it.

Criticise me, give me advice, praise me, do anything you want-besides flaming-but most of all, tell me what you think by leaving a **review!**


	5. Attention, readers

**Author's note: **Hey everyone, Vortekz here. I've got something to say, so bear with me for a few minutes. I got my first one when I was 11 years old: a Retinal migraine. It's basically a retinal disease in which I experience random blind spots in my right eye due to spasms in the blood vessels in the retina. They usually stay around for a good hour or two, and then fade away before I get one hell of a migraine.

I've been trying to type up the next chapter, but I've been experiencing them quite frequently lately and it's keeping me from staying on the computer for too long. Like I've said before, I've already got seven more chapters planned out, so it's not a matter of writers block or anything like that. Even now I'm having difficulty writing this up because I can't see one half of my keyboard, lol.

Anyway, the main point of this author note is to let you know that I'm not giving up the story or anything of the like, but more or less letting you guys know that the next chapter being up in "a few days" is going to be extended to "a week or two". Of course, if they clear up sooner then I'll be fine and able to type up the rest of the chapter. Hell, they could clear up tomorrow and I'd be updating on Monday.

Just didn't want you guys thinking I was abandoning it or something. **Yo Vortekz **out.


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